


Point of Extinction

by msermesth



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Addiction, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Break Up, Cocaine, Drug Use, Established Relationship, Iron Man Vol. 1 (1968), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-02-28 20:04:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13278891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msermesth/pseuds/msermesth
Summary: Tony just needs enough to get him to Steve. If he has Steve, he can do anything.He can even get sober.





	Point of Extinction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kiyaar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiyaar/gifts).



> Not a happy story, definitely not a happy ending.
> 
> This fic happens after Tony’s confrontation with Steve in the Bowery flophouse during Iron Man #172, but just imagine the fire after Steve left never happened.

Steve leaves.

Steve _leaves;_ there’s a crash outside the door. The walls shake.

Tony shakes.

He tries to stagger to his feet but hauling himself up proves to be too much for his legs. The floor is swaying beneath him—it’s like being on a boat in choppy waters with no shore to keep his eyes on.

He hears footsteps on the stairs, but they fade in his hearing. Steve is walking away, and if Tony could just stand up straight and follow him, then he could stop him and explain and make everything right.

And Steve just doesn’t get it; he doesn’t get what it’s like to have everything ripped away from you and to be left with nothing but the burn of whiskey; he definitely doesn’t get how much Tony hates himself when he just thinks about his boyfriend’s accomplishments, his inherent goodness, his _perfection_.

On the third try to stand, he makes it upright with the help of the wall and the cold paint doesn’t feel much different than the floor. His brain is sluggish, but even double-vision drunk, Tony’s mind never shuts off. The way he chases _forgetting_ is part of the tragedy of the whole situation. It’s just one more thing Tony will never have.

Then his thoughts land on the worst possibility. What if… Steve leaves forever?

Suddenly Stane stealing his company seems trivial compared to the idea that he might never get to go home to Steve and Steve would never help him into bed because he’s too drunk to take off his own socks. Steve, who has always been supportive when Tony was trying to be sober and understanding when Tony had too much to drink. _Steve_ , who hands him a glass of water and a sandwich when he returns from the workshop glassy-eyed and bouncing and unable to stop talking because he needed that one bump to really figure out why the steel mesh was getting so hot in the field. This is the Steve who never confronts Tony about his failings, never makes it clear that he knows what Tony does, never says anything about the things Tony puts in his body because he needs them. Steve always forgives. He always cares.

Then why is now so different?

Without realizing it, Tony has crossed a line and now he needs to fix it.

After a couple of minutes against the wall, Tony is beginning to get a hang of the whole standing thing, and he tries to push himself to the door. It’s a long walk back to Avengers’ Mansion, but he can do it. Or he thinks he can until he stumbles and realizes that if he’s going to convince Steve to take him back, he’s going to have to be more sober.

Tomorrow. Forever.

Come tomorrow, he’ll never take another drink again. But for now, the thought that he should just wait it out never crosses his mind. He just doesn’t have the time for that. Every second he wastes is a second he’s not fighting for Steve to take him back.

There’s a little plastic bag in Tony’s pocket. He doesn’t have many friends these days, but some people still want to shove drugs in his hand. Tony’s been saving this little baggie of coke for something amorphous, but now that he’s holding it, he knows why.

 _Just this one last time_ , he tells himself. All he needs is enough to get to the mansion and to Steve’s front door, and once Steve forgives him, he’ll stop. _It’s just one more_ , he justifies. _It’s what I need to get through the night_.

So, he gingerly lowers himself to the floor and kneels in front of nightstand. Without thinking too much about it, he swipes his arm across the top of it and the collection of empty liquor bottles falls to the floor. He can sweep up the glass later. Right now the most important thing is gently tapping out enough cocaine to keep him upright. He initially thinks two rails will be his limit, but his hand is shaky and he accidentally sifts out enough for three.

It isn’t a problem. Tony can’t put it back in the bag, anyway. He snorts them with an efficiency he can’t help being proud of. Tony knows it’s only an immediate placebo effect, but he’s able to lift himself off of the floor. There’s a little stray white powder on the nightstand and broken glass around his feet, but Tony will clean it all up tomorrow.

When Steve has forgiven him. When he’ll be sober.

It’s starting to hit him now, he notices, _finally_ , and his heart feels like a freight train; his feet find a steady rhythm. He knows the distance between here and the mansion, he knows his pace, he knows he’ll be outside Steve’s bedroom door in an hour, but that’s not enough, he _needs_ to be there, sooner, faster, so he runs. So what if there’s snow on the ground. So what if the air is cold. It feels refreshing on his sweating body.

All he can think about is how much he needs Steve to take him back. In his head he’s evaluating millions of scenarios, and he knows exactly what he needs to do. He’ll get on his knees and beg for Steve to understand and he’ll stay there as long as he must.

The plan is in place when he sees the mansion rising in the distance. Tony never realized how beautiful it is. This is where he’s meant to be, this is what he wants more than anything, this is what he is going to have when he’s sober tomorrow.

Except… there’s a doubt, in the back of Tony’s mind, growing and growing and growing. He sways on his feet and a morose heavy weight is beginning to settle in his stomach. Tony has always been a failure, why would this time be different?

He’s crashing, he feels it, and the black hole of his heart will swallow him if he doesn’t do something to stop it. The baggie, still filled with a little coke, is right in his pocket and he _knows_ it would only take a little bump to get through this. That’s why he doesn’t stutter when he pulls it out, doesn’t doubt himself when he taps out a little on the flat part of his hand between his thumb and forefinger, doesn’t flinch when he closes a nostril and uses the other to snort the powder.

Tony stands outside the gates in the snow till he knows it’s working again, and after that, it’s easy to walk through the doors and up the stairs to Steve’s room. He runs into Monica and Hercules and _knows_ they are judging him, but he doesn’t care. Steve’s the only one who matters right now.

Then Tony’s right in front of Steve’s door, faster than he expected, and a little part of his brain tells him that he’s too high, but the rest of him screams that he’s _fine_ , in fact, he’s better than fine, he’s _invincible_.

Steve opens the door and Tony’s not even sure he knocked. “Tony,” Steve says, and it’s surprise and contempt all rolled into one. His face looks concerned, if concern could ever mix with disgust.

This is bad, but Tony can _fix it_. “Sweetie,” Tony says and gets on his knees. “Steve, love, you know I love you right? I love you more than anything else in the world. And I want to be with you forever,” he rambles with no filter between what’s going on his mind and what comes out of his mouth. “And I’ve been a grade-A fuck-up, but you have to know, that I’ve always loved you and never wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, and I promise that tomorrow, I’ll-”

“Get up,” Steve growls and his tone makes it impossible for Tony to open his mouth. “Get. Up,” Steve tries again and Tony tries, loses his balance, and resigns himself to kneeling. That isn’t enough, though, and Steve hauls him up like a half filled bag of potatoes before dragging him past the threshold of his room and closing the door. “Tony,” he starts again and Tony couldn’t ever make sense of what’s going behind those eyes, even if he had years to do nothing but. “There are people who live here that respect you, and you come here to… I don’t even know what you’re doing here.”

How can he not understand? Tony tries to explain, “I came here to apologize, sweetheart. To tell you that tomorrow I’m going to get sobe-”

Steve doesn’t let him finish. “Don’t. Just... don’t. I know this cycle. I know what happens next, so just stop, please?” he says, mostly to himself, and Tony can’t tell if it looks like Steve’s going to cry or be sick.

All of this is wrong. “But, love, you have to believe me. I’ll do anything for you, I mean it. I’ll _never_ drink again if that’s what you want. I promise.  _I want_ to be helped.”

Steve sighs, and his shoulder go limp. “Tony, you’re high.” And to punctuate his point he gently wipes the pad of his thumb under Tony’s nose and then flicks off whatever he finds there like it burns him.

“Steve, I mean it. I need you to listen to me, why won’t you listen to me?” Tony begs and he tries to get back on his knees, but Steve grabs his shoulders and keeps him upright.

“You’re freezing. Goddamnit, did you _walk_ here? Are you trying to kill yourself?”

The answer is so obvious Tony doesn’t say anything.

Steve’s hands drop to his side. “Please leave,”

“No.”

“ _Please_.”

“But… but I love you.”

Steve laughs to himself and swallows down something that could be a sob. “Yeah, you do. But I’m done.”

Fear is gripping Tony so hard his chest hurts. “Done with what?”

“ _T_ _his_ ,” Steve says and gestures between the two of them. “Not anymore. I’m done.”

“But I’m never going to take another drink. _I promise_ ,” Tony tries to say, begs Steve to understand, and he’s crying.

The sound Steve makes is too bitter to be a chuckle. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” he says, and guides Tony to sit on his bed. “You can't go outside like this. Please shower and put on a dry pair of clothes. I’ll send up someone to watch after you.” He turns away from Tony and walks to the door. “Goodbye, Tony.”

The door closes and Steve leaves Tony to sit on the bed they used to share five days out of the week.

Tony stumbles up. He can’t be here anymore. He _needs_ a drink, and Steve hid all the alcohol in the mansion once things started to get bad. The cold snow, melting past his clothes, reminds him there’s a world outside.

He gets up and looks out the window. It’s only a ten foot drop, and there is a gutter he can shimmy down.

He’s barely out the window before he falls to the ground, straight and hard on his left leg, and everything begins tilting again. The snow feels good.

He’ll just lay here for a few moments. And then he’ll get a drink.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr Post](https://msermesth.tumblr.com/post/169505686264/fandom-stocking-fills)


End file.
